Walk with Ollie


A walk around with Ollie in the dawning light
Crisp cracks beneath my deeply treaded trainers
Orange ridges in white frost
Wisps of cloud on a postcard morning
Dominated by the fading stars
The yodel of the moon’s mind
If only it could speak to tell its joys

The calmness and enveloping warmth of the frost-bitten air
That hangs and says beware
That tingle on your cheek
The stiffness in your digit joints
No prestidigitation in these fields upon the hill

Ollie doesn’t yelp or sing
I, his master, for this hour
Whistle pathetically yet skilfully
Keeping the dimples on the moon
And the chuckle pushing through Santa’s lips
It pops out but he tries to gulp it down
Morning hasn’t come yet

It’s all so quiet and heaven is in my heart
Baked potatoes spill margarine from the lip of consciousness
My tongue pokes out to lick it
Mum hugs me, Dad passes me the football and I score
Someone says ‘well done’

Coming back, the lush white prickly grass
No longer cushions me and I hit the hard pavement
Take Ollie’s liberty once more
To keep him from the bright-eyed beasts

God, Love, Mince Pies
All jumble up in my tumble dryer brain
Back in the kitchen, “That was a nice walk”
The dog looks bemused… but agrees





14th February ‘09